


Annihilator

by Writefuck



Category: Magic: The Gathering
Genre: Angels, Corruption, Eldrazi, Innistrad, Other, Rape, Tentacles, Torture, faith - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-17
Updated: 2015-12-17
Packaged: 2018-05-07 01:37:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5438699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writefuck/pseuds/Writefuck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A shadow looms over Innistrad, an intruder from the blind eternities. Avacyn, her sisters, and a flight of angels go to investigate. The tags should tell you what happens next.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Annihilator

**Author's Note:**

> For /tg/. I'm going to feel kind of silly if the "Shadow" referred to in Shadows Over Innistrad turns out to have nothing to do with the Eldrazi.

One of the Oldwalkers' most impressive feats of magic streaks across the night sky of Innistrad. Her white wings illuminated in the moonlight, Avacyn flies silently towards what her Angelic host had only been able to describe as, "a disturbance." It's not yet visible, still miles away, but she can sense its presence even now. As the beacon of hope in a world full of monsters, the magical conduit that connects Avacyn to the faithful lets her feel every emotion they experience. Fear, when they believe they may be overrun by the dark forces. Hope, when they pray for salvation. Vindication, when a golden-white bolt from the heavens eradicates a wicked creature. Tonight, Avacyn feels a common and familiar emotion. Unease. But beyond that, something else, something less familiar. Intrigue? And not just from the mortals below, but from the flights of Angels across the plane as well. Monsters and demons are a horrifying sight, but the inhabitants of Innistrad have some experience with them. This is something that has never been seen on this plane.

Avacyn feels hunger. Not her own hunger; she doesn't eat. She feels the hunger of some other being on the plane. It isn't the vampires; they feel only thirst and bloodlust, and their connection to Avacyn is tangential at best. It isn't the Wolfir; they don't hunger for hunger's sake, they hunger to release their inner savagery. It isn't the humans; their numbers still haven't recovered enough for famine to be a possibility, and anyway the undead generally don't do much to ruin the crops. The feeling comes from many sources at once, and yet they are all a part of the same source.

It's not a hunger for sustenance. It's nothing that is, strictly speaking, required for day-to-day survival. It's hunger of a different kind, something Avacyn is unfamiliar with personally, having only felt it from pairs of humans now and again. It's the desire to create more of oneself, to proliferate, to populate, to replicate. Avacyn's creator never intended her to feel such things, and other Angels were oblivious to the concept beyond being it being a vague sort of taboo.

Bruna and Sigarda have flown ahead of their forces to rendezvous with Gisela and flight Goldnight. They approach from the east, while Avacyn herself comes from the South. The anomaly, whatever it is, hovers dormant over the trees of Kessig, but also extends to cover the ground below. Avacyn senses its presence, and the moon should illuminate it, but the forest it occupies is pitch dark, somehow surrounded in shadow. As she approaches, the skies begin to darken, the stars vanishing behind a layer of dim fog. The moon itself seems to fade. It's as if some force greater than herself is warning her... no, _forbidding_ her not to come to this place. But all of Innistrad is Avacyn's domain, and no force on the plane - native or otherwise - will deny her.

Avacyn feels fear through the conduit. Her host has crossed some sort of threshold, and the anomaly's very presence is testing their resolve.

Hesitation. This, Avacyn has almost never felt from her host. Angels do not hesitate. Even against the mightiest demon, the weakest Seraph of Dawn would stand firm, right until she was utterly destroyed. Whatever the anomaly is, it's more powerful than Griselbrand, more destructive than Withengar.

Bruna speaks, and Avacyn hears her words through two dozen Angels. "What cannot be destroyed, must be contained." Avacyn's own decree, meant to inspire hope in mortal hearts. Hardly a battle strategy. The anomaly is too powerful to contain with anything short of the Helvault itself, and that was destroyed a long time ago. But the words shake them from their trepidation, and they adopt a battle formation, steeling themselves. Avacyn is nearly here. More Angels will be arriving soon, as backup. They have Sigarda and Gisela to protect them. If this becomes a battle, they are stronger than any army on Innistrad.

But this thing is not of Innistrad. Avacyn begins to realize that its power may exceed that of even the mightiest demon, and no Angel here has done battle with anything like it before. 

Avacyn has felt her own fear exactly twice before. The first time, on the night of her creation, as a vampire who was practically a god explained to her that she was a construct made of White mana, powered by a massive plane-wide conduit spell that channeled the faith of every sentient being on Innistrad into a single focal point - her. The second time, when Griselbrand dragged her into the Helvault with him - not fear of him, of course, but fear of what would happen to the faithful in her absence.

Now, for the third time since her birth, Avacyn feels fear. She fears for her host, an army of faithful Angels who may be no match for the anomaly. She fears for her sisters, Bruna, Gisela and Sigarda, who may have misplaced confidence in their power and their numbers. But Avacyn also fears for herself. She is indestructible; the godlike sangromancer who made her was extremely thorough. But there are worse fates than death. The plane of Innistrad is proof of this.

As if sensing weakness, the anomaly stirs to activity and it's like something has perturbed an anthill. Masses of creatures begin to skitter around on the ground below, scurrying to and fro with no apparent purpose. The entire forest has come alive, and everything below is a part of the anomaly, save for the trees themselves, and that's only because they're more useful as cover right now. One being is actually thousands, but all of the thousands are connected to the one.

And the one is awaking as well. While the masses below outnumber the Angels by a factor of a hundred, they are weak individually, and no match for any kind of army unless that army was very, very stupid. But the one is singlehandedly more powerful than Avacyn's three sisters combined. They know this, and Avacyn senses their fear. At once, a single thought crosses their minds, as the anomaly becomes aware of them:

_We should fall back._

But it's too late. The anomaly - no, the creature - awakens fully, and it lurches to life. A shockwave ripples through reality as a surge of colorless mana bends time backwards on itself, and suddenly the creature is directly above the surprised Angels. Even with most of its physical mass contained in the drones on the forest floor, the creature is still absolutely enormous, hundreds of feet across. It flies with no wings, and is clearly no Demon, Angel, Dragon, or any other creature Avacyn can name. Its body seems to be made out of limbs, some with joins and some like a sea creature, some with hands and some with too many fingers. No single part of it is good or natural. This isn't even its true form, just the closest approximation that reality can come up with.

Avacyn knows its name. Her creator passed on much of his knowledge and his millennia of experience. This creature is Emrakul, greatest and most destructive of the three Eldrazi Titans. Its presence on this plane means that something in the universe has gone very, very wrong.

The creature is no mindless brute. When it leapt into the skies, it positioned itself above and the center of the Angels' formation. Its many limbs begin to reach down, grasping lazily, like a blind man searching in the dark. The Angels, momentarily caught off guard by the distortion in time, scatter for a second or two, each one individually trying to determine what had happened. The the instinct for battle takes over, and nearly every Angel comes to the same conclusion.

_We are inside the enemy's reach. We can strike at its center._

Gisela's blades flash, effortlessly removing four fingers from a six-fingered hand. The limb barely reacts, its stumps spouting a dark purple ichor that stains Gisela's wing. A flurry of blades from other Angels follow, most cutting deep into arms and tentacles. Bruna and Sigarda fly upwards, towards the center of the beast, brandishing staves and magic. Lights flash, as White, Blue, and Green spells are channeled at the creature, with absolutely no affect whatsoever. Something in the creature's nature protects it from their magic.

Limbs reach further down, and the creature allows itself to sink slightly. The host now finds itself in a sparse forest of limbs dangling from above, with more arms and fingers grasping at them. An Angel shrieks a cry of battle, severing an arm that had tried to grasp her. Another two Angels hover back to back, slashing at any limb that dares to get within reach of their holy blades. Sigarda and Bruna fall back, but Gisela flies upward, past them, charging into the center of the creature's mass. She expects to find a body or at least some place for the creature to store its vital organs. The thick limbs become closer together as she approaches the center, and suddenly she realizes she has put herself in the middle of a literal forest of enemies. Emrakul chooses this time to strike back.

Lazily grasping hands suddenly whip to life. In an instant three different Angels are cuffed with the force of a small comet. By chance, one happened to be holding her sword in a position to block the attack, and the weapon is flung from her grasp with enough force to remove it from the battlefield entirely. The Angel is thrown into two other Angels and they strike hard enough to break bones, both theirs and hers.

Tentacles curl into each other, weaving together in patterns too intricate to follow, practically tying themselves into knots. A few Angels are caught between the muscled appendages and are instantly pinned, held vulnerable and immobilized by solid walls of dark purple meat. Some of the faster Angels try to evade their pursuers, but they were surrounded before the fight had even begun. Emrakul's smaller hands grip wings, arms and legs with enough strength that the blunt fingers pierce Angelic skin.

One unfortunate Angel has been blindly grabbed by no less than seven arms. A pair of limbs hold her arms outward, one of her arms excruciatingly twisted, the other still managing to hold her sword in a limp, impotent grip. Two more grip her right knee and left calf, her dark leggings torn and her dress already stained with her own blood. Each delicate wing is grasped by an enormous hand with a crushing grip, the feathered appendages absolutely mangled; even with healing magic, she would never fly again. A final large hand grips her upper torso, having crushed her silvered steel breastplate and several of her ribs, and blood runs freely from where the twisted metal has dug into her skin. Despite her condition, the wounded Angel still struggles, but only manages to rock her pelvis back and forth in a display that would almost be suggestive and obscene. Either annoyed or intrigued by her struggles, more small arms descend. Two of them grasp her hips, holding her waist steady in their iron grip, while a third places itself probingly over the white cloth and chain mail that covers her belly. She opens her mouth to scream, only for a hand to slam her jaw shut and forcefully tilt her head upward, bending her neck painfully and preventing her from doing much more than groan through her teeth.

The rest of the flight fare hardly better, but Avacyn's attention is drawn to her sisters. Bruna and Sigarda had quickly changed tactics to a defensive formation, staying too close together for any limbs to get between them. Bruna had erected a protective spell that seemed to prevent the creature from grasping either of them directly, so it was forced to close off their possible route of escape. The two fly down, and a mass of limbs constrict together, forcing them to change directions to avoid flying directly into the seething group. They fly towards the edge, but again the limbs bunch together, forming an impassable tangle. They turn 90 degrees, and find themselves flying towards a pair of Angels who've both been constricted so tightly by tentacles that their bodies are crushed, limbs protruding through the gaps but now hanging limp, every bone having been broken, with crumpled wings as a mockery of Angelic elegance.

Momentarily shocked by this sight, the sisters hear a cry from above them. A Goldnight blade falls from above, and they recognize it as Gisela's. She had been deep inside the creature's mass when it began its onslaught, and both had lost track of her in the chaos. Without so much as a word of discussion, both Angels fly upwards towards the source of the yell, determined to rescue their sister. The seething mass below them lazily gives chase, while quietly sealing off the route of escape.

They find Gisela in a desperate struggle for freedom. A long, dexterous tendril has descended from above and wrapped itself loosely around her neck. She has managed to stab her remaining sword into it a few feet above her head, and the creature's dark blood flows freely. Her matted hair is stained a dark purple, and sticks to the tentacle, her face, and her chest. A pair of arms grasp her wings almost delicately, despite their immovable grip. They hold her by the wingtips, and have pulled her wings painfully wide, stretched too far for her to get any kind of leverage with them. They may even be dislocated.

Each leg is gripped by a thick tentacle that winds its way slowly upward, like a python climbing a tree, approaching where her thighs meet. A pair of arms hold her up by her armpits, and a series of tiny hands and tentacles have just finished unbuckling her breastplate, exposing the flimsy white robe underneath. As the armor falls away, the arms holding her squeeze her breasts together vulgarly, the holy symbol of Avacyn dangling from a chain necklace and resting on top of her cleavage, as if to mock everything her faith stood for. Though Gisela is still struggling with all her considerable strength, when she sees her sisters she freezes, terrified for their safety for the first time in her life. She tries to yell, "Get out of here!" but the tentacle squeezes down on her windpipe and she only manages to mouth the words.

For the briefest moment, Bruna and Sigarda are too shocked to react. A spectacle such as this is as impossible as it is indecent, and their sister's panicked insistence that they flee instead of stay and fight proves their undoing. They hesitate for one second too many, and then Emrakul slams all of its dangling tentacles together, crushing every single Angel into a forest of impenetrable muscle. Bruna and Sigarda's protective spell shatters, and they smack into one another, squeezed on all sides by the immovable mass. From what they had already seen, the creature is easily strong enough to crush them to death without even trying, but instead it simply holds them in place. They hear a strangled scream from their sister somewhere above and the disturbing sound of large bones breaking. Gisela's wings are certainly ruined.

Avacyn feels the faith of individual Angels vanish as they perish. A quarter of the flight were killed almost immediately when Emrakul began lashing out, and now the creature has killed twice as many with its massive crushing blow. Her sisters are alive, but they and the remainder of the flight are no longer fighting. Combat against Emrakul has ended. The battle has turned into a rescue mission.

There is no light inside the constricted mass of tentacle. Bruna hears a sound like leather sliding against leather, and she feels something wrap around one leg, then the other. Sigarda feels a pair of tentacle sliding down into her thigh-high armored boots, attempting to slide them off her legs. She tries to bend her knees and ankles to keep them from coming off, but the crushing force of the creature's muscles fight her every effort. She feels something slithering up from the bottom of her chest plate, but can do little more to stop it than flex her abdominal muscles. Bruna feels her staff wrenched out of her grip, her attempts to hold on restricted by the tendrils wrapped around the top of each of her shoulders, pushing them downward with enough force to threaten to push them right out of their sockets. Her staff scrapes past Sigarda, cutting a gouge in her temple. Sigarda's weapon is long gone as well, and she feels strong tentacles wrapped around her armored forearms, holding them motionless.

Finally the tentacles pull apart from each other, and the three Angels find themselves facing each other inside a sphere-shaped chamber, with walls made of tightly constricting tentacles. The chamber is illuminated by the glowing end of Bruna's staff, which is embedded in the floor of tentacles below them. They can hear the sounds of the remaining Angels below them, outside the sphere, groans and screams making a grotesque mockery of an Angelic choir.

A single tentacle has bound Bruna's armored forearms together, behind her back, and a thicker tentacle is wrapped tightly around her wings, squeezing them painfully into one another and extending them out behind her. Her breastplate has been loosened enough to pull it downward, exposing her ample bosom. A pair of tentacles wrap around her thighs and around her waist, leaving her legs free to kick at nothing.

Sigarda has been stripped of her armored leg wear, her legs now wrapped in tentacle up past her knees, holding them spread in an upside down "V". An enormous pair of tentacles wrap around an arm and a wing each, pinning the wing and arm together in a spread eagle, as she tries to beat her wings in a vain effort to break loose. The tentacles have given up trying to work her chest plate off, and had instead torn apart what remained of her skirt and undergarments, leaving her nether regions exposed.

Gisela has been freed of all armor, leaving her wearing little more than a loose fitting open white robe. The holy symbol of Avacyn still hangs around her neck, but the red tabard that formed the front of her dress has been torn to shreds. Her wings hang limply and at awkward angles. There are tears in her eyes, but a tentacle wraps tightly over her mouth and around her neck, the end of it resting on top of her left breast. She can do little more than groan, but despite her helpless condition, there is fire in her eyes. 

After handful of speechless seconds to take in their predicament, Bruna and Sigarda both attempt to cast a spell. Before either can speak a syllable, a lightning-fast fist slams into each Angel's jaw, slamming their mouths shut with a force that would shatter a human's jaw. A pair of constricting tentacles slither up Bruna's back and shoulders, circle around her neck, and wrap themselves around her mouth, the ends of each pushing past her lips and filling her cheeks. She tries to bite down on them as hard as she can, hoping they may retract instinctively if she draws blood, but their flesh is like thick leather and the muscle underneath may as well be made of steel.

Sigarda, her vision spinning, feels a pair of hands grip the side of her face and hold her head in a vise-like grip, while a third hand pries her mouth open. She is shocked back to awareness as a thick appendage shoves itself into her mouth, ramming into the back of her throat. She gags hard and tries to pull away, but her head is held motionless and her body has little room to move at all. The tentacle doesn't recede, instead pushing itself harder against the back of her throat. She gags so hard it hurts her stomach, and the tentacle pulls back. Sigarda coughs violently as the tentacle slides all the way out, a line of spittle still connecting it to her lip. She tries to look away, but her head is still held immobile. She averts her eyes instead, but the saliva-covered tentacle moves to stay in her field of view. She opens her mouth to say a curse to the intruder, only for it to shoot back in before she can finish the first word. The arms holding her head tilt her upward and the tentacle begins thrusting freely in and out of her throat. She swallows involuntarily, inviting the intruder further down. She struggles to breathe through her nose.

Bruna, her own mouth filled with the immobile ends of Emrakul's tentacles, feels a pair of tentacles move their way up her chest and wrap around her breasts. They squeeze as if toying with a fascinating plaything and the tentacles around her neck and shoulders relax slightly, allowing her to sway with the rhythmic massaging. A slightly larger tentacle slides up between her breasts, and the other tentacles squeeze her breasts together, as the new guest pushes in and out between her cleavage. Bruna looks down with indignity, and sees a swarming mass of thin tentacles rising up from beneath her. The tentacles grasping her thighs spread her legs, and she kicks the air uselessly as she tries to scream through the binding gag. The tentacles rise up between her legs and begin probing and caressing the insides of her thigh, and a number of them slide up underneath her thin skirt, feeling the shape of her backside and the small of her back. A thin, moist tentacle slips inside her silken underwear and slides against her nethers, causing her to jerk in surprise at the sensation. The tentacle begins rubbing her slit with slow, deliberate movement, and the mass of tentacles turn her so that her back is facing Gisela.

Gisela, half naked, crippled and restrained, watches in horror as her sisters are defiled and molested in front of her. From below the sphere, she can still hear the sounds of the other Angels suffering. For whatever reason, the creature has chosen to spare her for the moment, instead forcing her to watch, and pray. Although the creature that defeated and humiliated her is a terrible force, she knows that Avacyn is invincible and absolutely relentless when angered - and this creature, wherever it came from, had undoubtedly drawn Avacyn's wrath.

Outside, Avacyn is faced with a dilemma. Though she is not omniscient, she knows her sisters and her host are suffering. Most of the Angels that attacked Emrakul are dead, a few more are dying, and the rest are horribly maimed or being tortured. Her sisters are being defiled, caught somewhere in the tangle of limbs and tentacles, and the creature will surely kill them once it gets bored. Emrakul is aware of her, but has yet to make a hostile move in her direction. She's ready to pull back if it the Titan advances on her. There are reinforcements on the way, but the flight of Angels is coming all the way from Nephalia, and they may not arrive in time to help. Even if they did, Avacyn doesn't want any more of her host to fall to this abomination.

Avacyn hears a prayer. The spell that connects Avacyn to the faith of Innistrad allows her to sense such things from anywhere on the plane, and the humans professing their faith serves as a omnipresent background noise, but this prayer is different. It's coming from an Angel, and Angels don't normally pray. Avacyn listens more closely, and to her shame she realizes that it's coming from somewhere inside the Eldrazi's grasp. It's her sister, Gisela. Bound and broken, she still has faith that Avacyn will deliver her from this evil force.

Faith is a stronger force than most realize, and the faith of a human in desperation is powerful enough to work miracles. The faith of an entire plane full of humans is enough to power an Angelic demigod like Avacyn. But the pure, unshakable faith of an Angel is stronger still, and Avacyn feels herself filled with the very thing she grants to her faithful: Hope. Avacyn closes the distance to the Titan, her spear at the ready. There is no battle cry.

Inside, the tentacle violating Sigarda's throat finally pulls out and allows her to breathe freely, leaving her coughing, gagging and lightheaded. With Sigarda dizzy and barely aware of her surroundings, the tentacles reposition her, letting her arms fall loose, but tightening their grip on her wings. Tentacles descend from the ceiling and wrap themselves tightly around her armored chest, as they hang her flat as if she were lying on a table, her legs and arms dangling. A pair of hands grip her ankles and pull her legs apart, while a number of tentacles raise up and wrap themselves tightly around her arms.

As Sigarda regains coherence, she realizes her limbs and wings are restrained. Her rear is practically raised in the air and she's been turned around so that her ass is facing her sister, Gisela. She is able to move her head and looks behind her, to see Gisela's eyes bugging in a silent scream. An instant later Sigarda sees that the thick tentacle that had been violating her throat is positioned just inches away from her womanhood, still dripping with her own saliva. The instant she sees the tentacle, it thrusts violently forward. Sigarda screams.

The tentacle squirms its way inside her Angelic cunt, lubricated with saliva and its own natural absorbency. It wriggles back and forth, prying open the Angel's most sacred place. It thrusts forward repeatedly, barely pulling out between thrusts, intent to just get as deep as it can. Sigarda feels herself stretching to accommodate the intruder but the pain in her groin sends spasms rippling through her entire body. With every thrust further inward, her entire body tenses, and her wings jerk violently enough that the creature's iron grip tears out feathers. She reflexively tries to pull her arms or legs free but the tentacles won't budge an inch. Finally the tentacle reaches a point where it can go no further, the entire lubricated portion buried deep inside its Angelic cocksleeve. It slowly slides out, and for a moment Sigarda fools herself into believing the creature is done, before it slowly but roughly slides itself back inside of her.

The mass of small tentacles massaging Bruna pull away, leaving only the tentacles gagging her and the tentacles restraining her arms and thighs. They rotate her in place, turning her to face the crippled Gisela, as if presenting her proudly to her sister. Bruna's entire body is flushed, and her white skirt is visibly stained with her own juices, which still drip vulgarly from her slit. She hangs her head in shame, looking away from Gisela, only to see Sigarda's predicament. Her eyes widen, and she looks back and forth between her two sisters in disbelief. Gisela simply stares down at the tentacles massed below Bruna, who follows her gaze and sees a thick tentacle snaking its way up her leg, this one with smooth bumps and ridges all along its surface. She immediately tries to squeeze her thighs together to prevent the implement from reaching its destination, and a tentacle uses the opportunity to pull her soiled panties down. The tentacles around her thighs pull them apart just enough for the new violator to slide in between them, and the tentacles move Bruna closer to Gisela. Unable to look away, Gisela closes her eyes instead, but can still hear the sound of the tentacle squeezing into her sister's hungry cunt. Bruna lets out a faint moan, and Gisela's eyes snap open to stare at her sister in disbelief.

Avacyn flies towards Emrakul, radiant white wings spread triumphantly, glowing moonsilver spear in hand. Emrakul holds its position, having no need to turn and face its adversary in order to attack. The enormous Eldrazi floats almost lazily as the humanoid creature flies underneath it. The Angel's spear lashes out, and a dozen limbs fall free, ichor spraying everywhere. The creature's fluids vaporize before contacting Avacyn, annihilated by her holy radiance. The monster flings dozens of grasping hands and tentacles towards the Angel, but Avacyn's spear moves in a blur, obliterating anything that gets close. One hand manages to grab onto the hem of Avacyn's skirt and is instantly incinerated. The cosmic monster and the Angelic demigod are, for the moment, evenly matched.

Bruna feels her new friend probing her insides gently, her moist walls squeezing involuntarily around it. Having been teased by the writing mass earlier, her body welcomes the sensation of _more_ , and she hears herself let out a sigh. The tentacle slips deeper inside, as if it were searching for something, and suddenly Bruna feels it press up against _something_ , sending an electric shock of raw pleasure up her spine. Her entire body jerks, and she lets out a yelp. The tentacle stops its movement, as if waiting to see what will happen next. She feels more tentacles sliding their way up her leg, and she remembers that she was supposed to be fighting their grip. She tries to kick again, but the modified tentacle slides its ridges over the same spot as before, and Bruna's legs turn to jelly. She lets out a stifled scream, and idly wonders what force in the universe decided that Angels should have a G-spot.

The tentacle deep inside her pulls itself most of the way out, and Bruna realizes that her hips are trembling. A slender tentacle slides itself along the lips of her slit, while another squirms gently up against her clit. The modified tentacle slips itself back inside, thrusting slowly and gently, and Bruna lets out a series of high moans. The tentacle begins pushing in and out, but never quite hits the place it found before. Barely aware of what she's doing, Bruna begins thrusting her hips in rhythm with the tentacle buried inside her, trying to push the intruder into that special spot. _Just finish this_ , she thinks to herself, but every time the tentacle thrusts inside of her it just barely misses the spot and keeps her from going completely over the edge.

Gisela, doing her best to ignore the humiliating noises coming out of her sister, tries desperately to focus on anything else, and finds her gaze wandering over to Sigarda. The wet mass of smaller tentacles that had been pleasuring Bruna earlier has made its way over to Sigarda and repositioned themselves behind her. Gisela's eyes go wide and an odd instinct tells her to shout, "Look out!" as a single wet tentacle thrusts itself at Sigarda's only remaining virgin entrance. The tentacle prods her opening, but fails to penetrate.

Sigarda tries to think of a spell that could help her break free, but finds it impossible to think, much less concentrate while the intruding tentacle is pounding away at her defiled orifice. Suddenly she feels something prod against the wrong hole, and her mind goes blank. Surely what it wants is impossible. The creature intends to disembowel her, or something. Maybe perverse humans have tried this type of thing, but an Angel's anatomy is vestigial to begin with, and this part of her simply _cannot_ be used in this way. Right?

The first tentacle finally slides itself out with a wet sound that Sigarda tries not to think about, and a slightly smaller, moist tentacle positions itself between her asscheeks. It pushes forward, and to Sigarda's dismay, begins to insert itself. Once again Sigarda feels herself being stretched against her will as the tentacle buries itself as deep as it can. With her last vestige of purity utterly violated, Sigarda feels the previous tentacle prod itself up into her womanhood again. Isn't this enough, to be soiled by this creature in a way that even mortals can only imagine? Is the monster not content to rape an Angel one way at a time? What more can it take from her?

The two tentacles begin thrusting in unison, and Sigarda feels a horrifying sensation inside of her. She can feel the tentacles hitting each other on the inside, and the pain of the new intruder brings back the pain from the old one. She opens her mouth to scream, and immediately gags on a fresh bundle of smaller tentacles that shove themselves inside. They're wet, and taste like... she doesn't want to think about what they taste like. The mass matches the rhythm of the two lower violators, and the sensations of being rigorously thrust into from three directions at once fades into a hazy numbness.

Unable to watch Sigarda be violated any longer, Gisela glances at the closer of her two sisters. Bruna is writhing, squirming, and twitching within the tentacles' grip, feeling herself teetering on the edge of _something_ and having it constantly denied to her. The tentacles have released her arms and she fondles her own breasts almost manically, trying anything to get more sensation. With Gisela watching, the creature finally pushed Bruna over the edge.

The modified tentacle presses down _hard_ on that magic spot inside Bruna, and she feels her mouth fly open. There's an incredibly loud noise coming from somewhere, it might be her, and it's like a choir of Angels cheering with something more primal than holy. Her vision explodes with spots and her entire body shoots with electric energy. Everything that's touching her elicits pure ecstasy, and she forgets where she is or how she got here. She forgets Sigarda being violated just few feet away from her. She forgets about Gisela hanging restrained and crippled right in front of her. She forgets about Avacyn, probably fighting this monster from the outside. She forgets about the Angelic crusaders who had died fighting this creature, or been maimed, crippled, or worse.

Avacyn is beneath the monster, circling upward. Her spear is still a blur, cutting through tentacles that can't bind her, and limbs that can't hold her. While the damage she does to the creature is mostly superficial, she is whittling it down. It still throws everything it has at her, trying in vain to kill or capture her. Every once in a while, a tendril will wrap itself around a limb, or a hand will grab her wing, her hair, her dress, only to be vaporized before it has a chance to use its leverage. While she doubts she can kill the beast with her power alone, Avacyn is determined at least drive the Eldrazi off of Innistrad. Send it back to the Blind Eternities where it can't hurt anyone, or leave it for the mighty Planeswalkers to deal with. All that matters is that Emrakul can't harm her, unlike her sisters, and that means she has a duty to rescue them _now_. Everything else is secondary.

Gisela watches in speechless horror as her sisters give in, one to pleasure and the other to pain. She fears for herself, and how she's likely to be next. She knows now that she and her sisters will die here, after the creature is done with them. It already killed the rest of the flight, after all, and it's just keeping them around for some kind of perverse game. The creature's actions make no sense on a primal level; it can't be trying to mate with them, because Angels don't normally reproduce in the first place, and its tentacles aren't genitalia. The creature must be doing this out of some kind of cruel malevolence, simply getting a kick out of torturing other innocent beings with sex. The creature is more powerful than any demon on Innistrad and might be in the running for one of the most cruel too. Avacyn can't save her sisters. It's hopeless.

A purple hand grabs one of Avacyn's calves. To Avacyn's confusion and the hand's apparent surprise, it doesn't disintegrate like before, and suddenly the hand whips Avacyn violently through the air with enough force to snap a human's neck. A strong human's neck. Maybe even a lesser Angel's neck. She has to hold her spear with both hands, but manages to keep her grip, and severs the hand from its limb. She kicks the lifeless appendage off her leg, and looks up only to see the entire mass of Emrakul, the Aeons Torn, flying down at her. No, not flying - _falling_ down at her. An entire forest of arms and tentacles splays out around her like the maw of some enormous wurm, while the actual forest below rushes upwards. The ground still teams with spawn, and Avacyn realizes her mistake - the spawn are a part of Emrakul. As soon as she flew underneath the Titan, it had her surrounded. Invincible or not, Avacyn had been playing by the Eldrazi's rules, and that could be a fatal mistake.

With a world-shaking crash, the Titan slams into the forest of Kessig, trapping Avacyn inside of itself. The monster has, effectively, swallowed her. The creature had created an enormous dome-shaped opening with walls made of its limbs and tentacles, with the only light coming from Avacyn's glowing spear. The edges of the walls seem to be moving, and Avacyn realizes that a large number of spawn are trapped inside the dome with her. They don't concern her. Individually, none of them can put up a fight against her, and even if they tried to swarm her, Avacyn remains invincible. The Titan just _landed_ on her. The spawn can't do worse than that.

Addressing the Titan directly, Avacyn raises her gaze to the ceiling and speaks to the dome. "You will tell me what you have done with my sisters."

Avacyn's voice echoes in the darkness. She can hear the skittering of the spawn, but the Titan itself doesn't answer. Avacyn instead looks for her sisters' faith in the conduit, but she finds nothing.

"Normally I would say that _if_ you have harmed them, I will destroy you. But I know we are well past that point. I know that you have done more than just harm them, you have _violated_ them." Again, Avacyn is met with only echoes. "I also know that you don't fear me. I doubt you've felt fear in a very long time, not since Sorin Markov first trapped you in physical form."

There is a cacophonous rumbling. The skittering swarm grows still. The walls begin to pulsate like the inside of an enormous heart chamber.

"You know the name of the Planeswalker who bound you. Good. I should tell you that I am also a creation of Sorin Markov."

A new voice resonates through the chamber. **"I KNOW OF YOUR NATURE, Angel OF HOPE."**

It's coming from all of the spawn, speaking at once - or rather, making noises all at once, and the sounds combine to make something that resembles words.

**"MY BRETHREN AND I PREDATE THE DIVISION OF MANA AS YOUR CREATOR HAS TAUGHT YOU. WE HAVE ADOPTED THREE OF THE FIVE COLORS TO SUIT OUR NEEDS. ULAMOG HAS ACQUIRED A FOURTH. ONLY WHITE REMAINS.** **YOUR COLOR WILL BE RE-PURPOSED TO SERVICE US."**

The ground explodes. Purple tendrils spring forth from everywhere and begin wrapping themselves around Avacyn's legs. Her spear flashes and severs the appendages, but there are already more to take their place. Avacyn beats her wings to take to the air, but on their downward stroke, a barrage of a dozen small tendrils erupts from the ground and grabs a hold of each wing. A dramatic sweep of her spear severs these tendrils as well, but now the ground is swarming with spawn too. Though they are small, they are fast and numerous, and not so easily dealt with in one swing. Several spawn claw their way up the flaps of Avacyn's skirt, and a particularly bold one leaps onto her back. Avacyn shakes free the ones on her skirt, throws the one on her back off with a beat of her wings, slices through another barrage of tendrils trying to anchor her legs to the ground, and then realizes she's made the same mistake twice. Emrakul is above her as well, and she turns to face the oncoming barrage of tentacles from above, just in time to see a 10-foot wide fist-shaped tangle of tentacles come rocketing down at her, before it slams into her with enough force to push her two feet down into the ground, into the buried mass of tendrils and spawn.

Avacyn is invincible, but her spear is just an artifact. It's splintered into a a dozen useless pieces. Pinned by the fist, Avacyn feels the Eldrazi's buried tendrils wrap themselves around her, binding her to into the dirt. Avacyn may be strong, but Emrakul's limbs and tentacles are stronger. The massive pseudo-fist retracts and disperses back into its individual tentacles, which dangle from the ceiling and writhe almost playfully. Avacyn's arms, legs, wings, chest, neck and even her hair are restrained with bands of tentacles, making a body-shaped cocoon on the ground, with only Avacyn's face exposed. The fragments of the moonsilver spear still glow, illuminating her defeated form. The tentacles that form the dome directly above Avacyn part, revealing a smaller, spherical chamber above, and three bundles of tentacles are lowered into the dome.

Avacyn's eyes grow wide as she recognizes her sisters - or what they've been reduced to. They're in various states of nudity, limbs bound, wings either broken or restrained. Each has tentacles wrapped tightly around their mouths, gagging them, and with a pang in her heart Avacyn can't help but think that they look like the three most defeated, humiliated, and hopeless people in the universe right now. They don't seem to have recognized her yet, with Avacyn's body mostly hidden beneath the Eldrazi's tentacles, but then Gisela's eyes go wide as she puts the pieces together, and somehow Avacyn's heart sinks even further.

Avacyn's bindings feel as if they squeeze tighter as the tendrils lift her up out of the small crater and into the air. Several smaller tendrils pick up the shards of her ruined weapon, holding them up as makeshift light sources, so that Avacyn's sisters can see her clearly. She opens her mouth to say something, anything to reassure them, but a tendril shoves a large wad of her own lustrous hair into her mouth and wraps itself tightly around, acting as a makeshift ball gag. All Avacyn manages to say is, "Wuh guh uh eeh eh oh..." before she is silenced completely. The tendrils tighten further.

The tendrils binding her chest change their position and wrap themselves tightly around her waist, hips and crotch, exposing her dark, filigreed breastplate. Her arms are pulled uncomfortably out to her sides as small arms descend and begin undoing the buckles that hold her armor in place. The tendrils around her arms pull back to wrap tightly around her biceps and forearms, allowing rough hands to wrench her gloves and bracers off. Her breastplate and armored shoulder pads fall away, landing on the ground only to be carried away by several spawn, and the arm wear soon joins them, leaving Avacyn wearing only her boots and flowing dress made of dark silk.

Avacyn realizes what Emrakul is doing. The creature is drawing this out in order to maximize her sister's faithlessness in Avacyn, in order to weaken her. If she grows weak enough, the Eldrazi might do... who knows what to her. Her fate is likely going to match that of her sisters, if she can't somehow break free. But as tendrils wrap around her hips and thighs, making way for the tendrils on her legs to slide her boots off, she begins to wonder if escape is even possible. She's unarmed, unarmored, barefoot, and now the tendrils are going for her underwear. She tries to squeeze her thighs together, but it's pointless; the thing just tears them off. The tendrils around her hips and thighs tighten painfully.

With a sudden sinking feeling, Avacyn realizes that her sisters' hopelessness is feeding back into her, and she herself is losing her own faith. Just moments ago, Avacyn was _going_ to destroy this creature. Shortly after that, her thoughts turned to, "How am I going to destroy this creature?" Now she can't help but think, "Is it possible to destroy this creature?"

Suddenly, Avacyn's shoulders hurt tremendously. It feels like the creature is nearly wrenching her arms off, but its position hasn't changed. Her wings are bound tightly, unable to move, and incredibly sore, like she'd been punched by a 10-foot wide fist. Her ribs and her hips feel like she's being crushed to death. She's having trouble breathing around her makeshift ball gag, and is choking a little on her own spit.

And then, sensing Avacyn's vulnerability, Emrakul lowers a single, bright, red and blue appendage from the ceiling, and Avacyn and her sisters stare in horror. All of the previous body parts had been glorified limbs, used to restrain and torture. This one is shaped differently, bell-ended and with an opening at the tip, clearly designed for a specific, carnal purpose. The tentacles around Avacyn's pale thighs relax their grip somewhat and the ones wrapped around her slender waist are replaced with gentle hands. The Eldrazi cock slides down Avacyn's midriff, staining her silky black dress with a strange, colorless fluid. It pulls her dress aside and stops at the head of her virgin slit, and brushes its tip gently but firmly against her lips. Avacyn flinches.

She isn't invincible. She allowed her sisters to fight this monstrosity and it didn't just destroy them, it _broke_ them, stripping them of their dignity and treating them like mortal meat. Avacyn doesn't deserve their faith, she's no better than them. She had lost whatever dignity she had when she saw the state of her pathetic sisters. All that's left now is Emrakul's final humiliation - not just to rape her, but to _mate_ with her, an unthinkable abomination reducing one of the most powerful creations of pure White mana into a grotesque toy. The Titan is too powerful to be stopped. Avacyn feels herself go limp, as she gives in to the inevitability of what's about to happen.

The tentacles binding her arms retreat, leaving only the muscular tendrils wrapped around her wrists, which are pulled gently behind her back. Emrakul's member slides against Avacyn's opening, leaving behind its strange lubricant. Finally the thing pushes itself in, gently, and Avacyn instinctively spreads her legs wider. Growing more bold, the appendage pushes in further, and Avacyn's muscles tense, her walls clamping down. The rubbery appendage wriggles insider her, squirming in further by a fraction of an inch. The virgin Angel knows nothing of this experience, usually leaving such mortal stuff to lesser Angels. The alien sensation leaves her panting.

A pair of Emrakul's hands extend down and gently cup her breasts, fondling them through her gown. Another pair caress her hips and her ass, almost experimentally. The main attraction, meanwhile, reaches as far in as it seem to be able to go, and begins pistoning in and out of Avacyn's sacred hole. The colorless fluid relaxes her from the inside out, like a strange narcotic, and she begins to focus entirely on the sensation of Emrakul inside of her. Avacyn remembers being full of divine wrath not too long ago, but now she is content to be here, in this bizarre cave, with those three pathetic, defeated Angels, and Emrakul inside of her.

Emrakul's love stick pushes further in than it has before, and Avacyn feels a strange sensation, as if it's hit a sort of barrier. There is no pain, just... mild pressure. The pleasure rod in between her sacred thighs seems to stop here, as if asking permission. Avacyn tries to nod, then realizes she can't move very well with her mouth bound with tendrils and hair. The tendrils unwrap themselves, she spits out a wad of hair, and says the last words she will say as the Angel of Hope of Innistrad.

"Fuck me, my Titan."

With renewed force, Emrakul violates Avacyn's innermost sanctum, piercing the womb of the White mana construct, and the sensation overwhelms her. Her pelvis is on fire, but it isn't pain. Pleasure courses through her brain, as Emrakul begins to cum inside of her. The pure, colorless mana overwhelms the White mana that powers her, and the spell that binds her to Innistrad becomes unstable. The five colors spin before her, and she realizes that the basics of magic and mana she had learned from Sorin are actually false. There is only one color, that that color is colorless. Avacyn's tenants of duty, protection, sacrifice, are but a small fraction of her total being, as Emrakul's energies course through her. She feels her abdomen throb, and she realizes that she's laughing like a madwoman. Her sisters would be cowering if they weren't restrained. Emrakul's seed is still spilling inside of her, contaminating her further, and she realizes that, right now, she's at the halfway point between color and colorless, and if she goes much further she'll become just another mindless colorless extension of Emrakul's will. Her hips start shaking uncontrollably, as her Angelic pussy tries to milk Emrakul's implement for all it's worth. Whatever it wants to do with her is fine, she will submit to its will, she will become a part of Emrakul. There is already no going back.

And then it's over. Avacyn falls roughly to the ground, landing on her back, and her sisters land in a heap beside her. Emrakul is gone, as are its spawn and all its body parts, having planeswalked away. All that remains is the enormous clearing that Emrakul created when it crashed into the ground and leveled the trees.

Avacyn sits up. Her nethers are sore, and leaking Emrakul's seed. It's no longer charged with colorless mana, but it's still Emrakul's essence. Avacyn reaches out to the conduit, searching for signs of faith. It feels... different. Attuning to the White spell was automatic before, because Avacyn was herself a glorified White spell. She's... something else now. Devoid. She still used White mana, but it didn't mean what it used to.

She feels her abdomen and there is a sharp throb of pain. More of the colorless seed oozes out, staining her soiled dress further. She squeezes her legs together, and it feels better. There is a warmth inside her belly, something Emrakul deposited there, but not something physical. Whatever it is, her previous nature as an Angel was't compatible with it. She feels... somehow freed, as if she is no longer fully bound to this world. 

Gisela stands on shaky feet, broken, humiliated, and frightened. "Avacyn? What happened to you? Is that thing gone?"

Avacyn thinks for a moment. She is a part of Emrakul's lineage now. Not just a drone, but perhaps one step above. The Titan left her with no particular command, and yet she knows that if it should summon her, she would do its bidding without question or hesitation.

Her sisters are staring at her. She should answer Gisela's question.

"The Titan is gone, for now. It might return, if it desires to. There is little we can do to prevent that."

"Avacyn," Bruna says with a quiet voice, "The monster did something to you. Something it didn't do to the rest of us."

It's not a question. Avacyn ponders the statement for a moment. She notices her breastplate and discarded garments are lying nearby, and decides to collect them.

"What do we do now?" Sigarda asks.

Holding her clothes, Avacyn shrugs. She's never shrugged before.

"Keep the faith. Stay together. Tell no one."

And Avacyn planeswalks away.

**Author's Note:**

> The conversation that lead to this:
> 
> Anonymous - 12/14/15(Mon)01:39:50 No.44165965  
> How are they going to have a huge twist in Shadows over Innistrad if everything is the same as Battle for Zendikar?  
> Atheists 0  
> Christians 1
> 
> Writefuck - 12/14/15(Mon)01:48:28 No.44166065  
> O ye of little faith. You expect things to be different. It's not called Return to Innistrad or Battle for Innistrad - for good reason. Innistrad is already a dark goddamn nightmare, and whatever's about to happen there is terrible enough to cast a shadow over even THAT wretched place.  
> Avacynians 1  
> Disciples of Griselbrand 0  
> Her Glorious Brood Lineage ∞
> 
> Anonymous - 12/14/15(Mon)01:52:42 No.44166110  
> M. Night Shyamalan twist: Avacyn is black.
> 
> Writefuck - 12/14/15(Mon)02:03:20 No.44166225  
> I remember the hype before Avacyn Restored, with everyone expecting Avacyn to be WWB, or some other variation on a Black Angel. Then it turns out she's mono-White, but at least we have the powerpuff girls in R/G/U. They kind of made up for it, I guess. I'm looking forward to Eldrazi-corrupted tentacled angels and Avacyn herself getting her indestructible orifices defiled by colorless Eldrazi seed.
> 
> Anonymous - 12/14/15(Mon)02:08:47 No.44166284  
> Fanfiction now
> 
> Anonymous - 12/14/15(Mon)02:08:47 No.44166284  
> >But Kozilek-Senpai, if you put your tentacles there I'll-  
> >Kyaaa!~
> 
> Writefuck - 12/14/15(Mon)02:29:05 No.44166462  
> Kozi's tentacles are basically his feet. Kinda weird, but acceptable... were it not for the fact that they're as also each as big around as a goddamn tree trunk.
> 
> Anonymous - 12/14/15(Mon)02:20:21 No.44166385  
> I would rather see Sorin get dominator droned and then give his cute little daughter the daddy vamp dick.
> 
> Writefuck - 12/14/15(Mon)02:29:05 No.44166462  
> I'm pretty sure post-mending Sorin is far weaker than his creation, based on the fact that no Sorin planeswalker card can get rid of Avacyn (except by forcing the opponent to sac a creature and getting lucky) while Avacyn can one-shot any Sorin planeswalker card even after a couple turns. I also don't recall Avacyn actually taking any sort of orders from Sorin at any point. So, uh... how.
> 
> Anonymous - 12/14/15(Mon)02:31:08 No.44166484  
> >So, uh... how.  
> Pron magic


End file.
